


Snowbound

by CMBYN (Pmzilla)



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Call me by your name, Charmie, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 16:06:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pmzilla/pseuds/CMBYN
Summary: Armie and Timothèe - snowed into NYC before the Golden Globes.





	1. Bomb Cyclone

**Author's Note:**

> Just a one shot. Not part of the same universe as the rest of my Charmie fics.

The flight cancellations filled the board as the snow filled the tarmac. 

“I know you wanted to be there to support the movie, Husband - but it’s not like this snow bomb thing wasn’t making the news for a few days.”

“Bomb Cyclone”, Armie says peevishly, “Well, I don’t think anything is going out today - I’m going to see if I can find a hotel room and watch some bad TV.”

“Ok, babe. Call me when you get in - and let me know when you are rescheduled. Love you.”

“Sure thing...and ah, love you too”.

 

Several hours later and Armie’s car is finally creeping into a snowbound Manhattan. He has a room at the Standard-high line. Where he’d enjoy the view if it weren’t white out conditions. Inching through town, Armie runs out of excuses not to call or text Timmy. 

**_A: Nothing is getting out of either airport - I’m coming back into the city._ **

Less than a minute passes, 

_ T: You need a place to stay, brother? Is all Manhattan booked up? I’m back from the photoshoot in Yonkers. _

Armie smiles, it’s just like Timmy to offer to help immediately. 

**_A: Nah. Got a room at the Standard._ **

After a brief pause, Armie follows up with,  **_It has a lovely view._ **

He fiddles with his phone, waiting for a response. Was that too cheesy - like a pick up line? There is a long wait (during which the cab advanced barely a half block).

_ T: Where are you now? _

Armie confers with the driver. 

**_A: Passing through Stuyvesant Park._ **

_ T: Excellent. Tell him to stop by Veselka first - 2nd and 9th - that is, if you were angling for company? Because this is same view across all Manhattan [picture] _

The picture is a crumpled white cloth napkin. Armie smiles into his phone - how does Timmy do that? Always catching Armie out with his directness and honesty.  He gives the driver the change in direction. Another text comes through. 

_ T: You want anything? _

“ _ You _ ” Armie thinks but instead replies, A:  **_Who would say no to their blinis?_ **

_ T: Someone who has to fit in his tux for the Golden Globes. ;) _

**_A: Good point. Then just you, I suppose. :)_ **

_ T: Me and Giulian. But don’t worry, he’s not invited to our hotel.  _

 

Giulian and Timmy slide into the car - Giulian up front, Timmy in the back - chattering and cheerful. Giulian keeps the conversation going for three very slow blocks before hopping out over a snowbank. 

“Good luck on Sunday, boys. I’ve got the champagne chilling already. Safe travels”.

His absence makes it more clear how quiet things are between them. Timmy speaks first, “I am sorry for this”.

“You are a man of many talents - but you don’t control the weather,” Armie deliberately misunderstands Tim. 

“Elizabeth must be annoyed…..Armie, why? Why did you come all the way out here?”

Armie raises his eyebrows. Timmy realizes that this conversation would have been better without an audience. He quickly changes tack, “Did American give any indication on when they can rebook you?”

“Things will start moving tomorrow. When is your flight? I’ll see if we can leave together”.

“Yeah - if my flight gets rescheduled. Otherwise, the Lady Bird crew has a plane, so I’ll hitch a ride with them. I gave Nikki my info...”

Armie raises his eyebrows a little - Timmy and Nikki have been growing close, he expects it’s only natural that the two auxiliary members of the Hammily would bond, but it makes him uncomfortable, too. Nikki is tall, handsome, speaks French and Italian. Armie shakes his head to clear it, then he sends a text to Nikki, asking him to see if he can take care of the change. He doesn’t want to think about flights right now.

When they finally arrive at the hotel, Armie tips the driver and carries in his bags. Tim hangs back while Armie registers. The hotel upgrades Armie to the Liberty Suite. The desk clerk stammers about how much Call Me By Your Name meant to him and silently hands over a second key. Armie looks nervous as he carries his bag over to the elevators. 

“It’s New York City - they see celebrities engaged in every form of veniality on a daily basis. No one cares”, Timmy whispers once they are in the lift. 

“Adultery isn’t venial sin”, Armie replies - a hangdog expression on his face. 

“And you are Jewish, so it doesn’t matter - unless you invited me over to debate theology?”, Timmy combs impatient fingers through his bedraggled curls. 

“Ethnically Jewish…”

“And practically atheist, so either way,” Timmy counters. 

“Don’t let my mother hear you say that”.

“Well, I doubt there is any danger of that happening - since she would probably prefer to have pins shoved under her nails rather than talk to your counterpart in demonic possession, the _actual admitted_ _bisexual_ from Call Me By Your Name,” Timmy grouses. 

They open the suite to see the city covered in grey snow - and a round platform bed on a raised dais that calls to mind fancy Playboy pornos from the 1970’s. 

“Oh my god - I’ve never been embarrassed by a bed before”, Armie’s face turns fuschia. 

“Not so many weeks ago, I was handcuffed to a very nondescript king sized bed when room service came and you barely blinked. Now you are embarrassed because the bed looks like an altar to sex - good sex - which would actually accommodate both of us comfortably?”, Timmy is becoming annoyed. He thought they were done with this false protest - where Armie insists that they shouldn't do what they are doing with his hand down Timothèe’s pants and no sign of stopping. It was like this for months in Crema. Each encounter preceded by guilty “what are we doing”, without any inclination to not do whatever it was - (sucking Timmy off in the shower, begging to be fucked on their moonlit balcony, kissing and touching long after Luca said cut).

“Armie - do you even want me? Or were you just afraid you’d get bored by yourself for less than 24 hours?,” Timmy asks. 

“Timmy, I do. You know I do….from the very start, I’ve wanted little else”, Armie pleads. 

“Well -  _ your constant guilt  _ is starting to make me doubt that. Look - I haven’t asked you for anything - not your time, not that you choose between me and Elizabeth….nothing. But I  _ am _ asking you this - don’t text me your room number of all you want to do once I’m in that room is pretend to feel guilty about us. It isn’t fair”, Timmy wishes he ignored the ask implicit in Armie’s text. 

Armie throws down his bag by the luggage rack and begins stripping out of his wet clothes without responding. Timmy watches for a moment, then says, “Ok, then. Fine - I’ll see you in LA, Armie”.


	2. Sky Might Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie spirals when he hears Timmy suggesting that they might do promo solo. Sony had hinted around about it initially, but when they saw the overwhelming response to “Armie + Timmy” - solo was quickly shelved.  _ This is it for us - I’ve pushed too far now to recover without an Act of God _ . In a moment’s panic, he makes a decision, “LISTEN to me!”

“Ok, then. Fine - I’ll see you in LA, Armie”.

“No! Come here,” Armie grabs Timmy by the arm,”I am done with trying to live parallel lives and pretending that it isn’t tearing me up, too.”

“Exactly - I won’t be a bother - we only have a few months left of promo, after all. Maybe they can even split us up for it like they did for Brokeback,” Timmy keeps talking, not allowing Armie to get a word in edgewise. 

Armie spirals when he hears Timmy suggesting that they might do promo solo. Sony had hinted around about it initially, but when they saw the overwhelming response to “Armie + Timmy” - solo was quickly shelved.  _ This is it for us - I’ve pushed too far now to recover without an Act of God _ . In a moment’s panic, he makes a decision, “LISTEN to me!”

Timmy stares - frightened by the yelling - but with the same angry set to his jaw. Armie takes a deep breath, looks into Timmy’s wounded eyes, and lies, “I...I told Liz while we were away,” Armie stutters. 

“You did what?!” his jaw drops. 

“I told Elizabeth. I told her….that something started in Crema,” the room temperature rises by several degrees - or at least it seems so to Armie, but the change that his lie has wrought in his lover’s face is nothing short of celestial, magical. He knows he should stop, but if he did, he might lose Tim - _no ‘might’, he_ _would_ _lose_ _Timmy, and that is unthinkable -_ so Armie continues, “I told her...I thought at first it was only a showmance, that you didn’t... _wouldn’t_ want to continue after production closed...but - we are almost two years out, and I still feel the same way.”

“Does she know about…?”

“We...didn’t get that far. Mostly because...I haven’t asked  if you feel the same….so...do you?”

Timmy is too stunned to reply for a moment, “Do I?”

Armie covers Timmy’s hands with his own, “You haven’t asked me for a thing - does that mean you have all you want? Or does it mean you were afraid of the potential answer?,” Armie begins to smile a little. He is caught up in the fiction he has spun, and for that fatal moment - even he believes it to be true.  

“I think it’s fairly obvious what I want the next step to be if you are willing. We have to wait until after the Oscars - I’m not sacrificing your chance with a scandal, T - and it’s a good chance”.

Timmy is taken aback, “You asked her for a divorce?”.

“We...we didn’t discuss the specifics. I wasn’t planning to bring it up when I did. But we were fighting again and...lying was just...I can’t do it anymore. But...I didn’t...I didn’t do this the right way - I should have asked you first if this is even something you want...with me,” Armie trails off - his heart hammering. Timothée still has not responded; Armie wants to stop talking but he is terrified that the silence will shatter the mirage.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? My god, why didn’t you call me the moment…,” Timmy trails off - the enormity of what Armie is saying sweeps through him in a tsunami of emotion.

“I thought it would be easier to tell you after the Oscars - less pressure on you, for sure - but you are not my secret, and I am not ashamed of you. If anything, I’m ashamed of myself - raking us both over the coals because I didn’t want to accept this part of myself”, Armie moves towards Timothèe who is too stunned to respond. “So….are you willing? Our PR will not be happy, nor will Brian - at least as your agent - but as your friend and mentor?”, Armie trails off. 

“Jesus - I don’t know, man. I sort of assumed I’d come out as bi once all the hoopla around the film had died down. I hoped I’d have a cute boyfriend and it might be a non-story. This is going to be a big deal. Are you sure it’s what you want?”.

“You are what I want - what I’ve wanted since I burst into that piano lesson and you swept me off my feet. I love you,” Armie smiles lopsidedly, “...not that what’s on offer is a bed of roses. I have children. I’m pretty sure the divorce is going to be an absolute bloodbath. I have responsibilities that you would be a fool to take on. And I know you aren’t a fool,” Armie’s face falls. 

“Armie, I’ve known since the first week in Crema that you are what I wanted. You were slower, more cautious - you have much more to lose - I’m just a man in love,” Timmy cups Armie’s face, his own reflects fathomless joy. They kiss - Armie can hear the blood rushing in his ears.  _ Jesus, what have I done? _

“Go - start the shower, I’ll join you in a moment and start filling the tub so we can soak,” Armie whispers against Timmy’s throat.

 

When Tim is safely ensconced in the giant bath, Armie texts Nikki from the edge of the tub.

A: Nik - I have fucked up colossally...are you with E?

**N: Colossally sounds...bad. I’m solo. You with T? Everything alright?**

A: With T...we’re good. He’s in the shower, I’m filling the hot tub...so - you know -  _ very  _ good...oh, except one little thing: he thinks I told E everything when we were in the Caymans

**N: <***> **

**N: <***> **

**N: Why would he think that?**

A: Because that’s what I told him.

**N: Jesus.**

A: I’ve gotta tell her - what the fucking hell am I gonna tell her?

**N: This is pretty advanced level fucked up, even for you. You gonna tell her before the Globes?**

A: Do I have a choice?

**N: You are all sitting at the same table? How do you NOT tell her? Armie - I’m driving her down to Palm Beach for the Festival thing! You are gonna be WITH Timmy there - when will you even be able to have a conversation like this between now and then?**

 

“Armie - we will never run out of hot water, but I’m running out of patience,” Timmy calls from the bathroom.

 

A: I gotta go - delete this message, I’ll call you tomorrow.

**N: Brother - i can understand why right now it isn’t top on your mind, but you need to fix this fast or there will be hell to pay.**

 

Armie enters the bathroom after he connects his phone to the speaker system. He plays one of Timmy’s mixes - heavy on the Frank Ocean. Timmy smiles over his shoulder through the steam.

“Jesus, do you have anyone else you want to invite? This is immense,” Armie whistles.

“Of all of the unbelievable things about you, Armie Hammer, the one I think would surprise people most is what a complete dork you are,” Timmy doesn’t seem to be put off, though.

“Was that bad?”

“Borderline dad joke”   
“Ooo,” Armie winces,”I’m outed.”   
“You are. Fortunately, your Hollywood ‘ _ la muvi star _ ’ persona never really got  _ me _ going. I like that you are a goofball.  _ My  _ goofball, now - or...soon,” Timmy laughed, open-mouthed and joyful. Armie felt an icy stream run down his back - so real that he turned to make sure one of the 10 shower heads had not gone rogue.

“C’mere,” they soap up quickly and rinse under the spray. Then, wrapped in the hotel’s immense, fluffy towels - they walk out to the teakwood tub on the dais, overlooking the city. Armie turns the water off, while Timmy pads over with drinks from the wetbar. They slide into the hot water, Armie is wrapped around Tim, as they both watch the snow drifting by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Timmy turns in his arms. He straddles Armie’s lap, their mouths touching, tasting - while their bodies rock gently together under the water. Armie takes in the lines of Tim’s body, his broadening shoulders tapering into a narrow waist that Armie can span with two hands. The lights are dim - the weather outside and the floor to ceiling windows make them feel as though they are making love in a snow globe. Ginger, cassia, and citrus scent the steam that rises from the soaking tub, together with the vetiver and wood notes in Armie’s cologne. 

“Blood orange,” Armie raises his nose from Tim’s breastbone, “You always smell of blood oranges and something...green”.

Tim sinks back in Armie’s lap, tracing his jawline with his nose and ending nestled beneath his chin, “This is where your scent is...most spicy - but honestly, I prefer it in summer where there is just sweat, tobacco, and you”. Timmy licks, then bites along his collar bone. 

“No marks - remember the Golden Globes!,” Armie tries to make his voice sound teasing.

“Neither of us will be topless - or, if you are planning it - fire Illyria. I’d rather dress you anyway,” Timothée growls.

Armie sighs, “Elizabeth doesn’t know”.

Timmy sits up with a jerk, “What?”

“She doesn’t know that we are still...you know - a thing. Only about Italy...and that I  _ want to continue  _ to pursue it,” Armie sighs.

“That isn’t what you…,” Timmy starts.

“That is  _ exactly  _ what I said - if I told her more, that would have implicated you before I was even sure what you wanted,” Armie has been staring out into the dark New York City skyline, but now he turns and grasps Timothée’s chin and meets his eyes, “This is what I want. This  _ is  _ going to happen. But I am equally serious about waiting until after the Oscars - especially because we play lovers. You haven’t been in LA long, but they will write you off - and I will not have that happen to you-you are too goddamn talented, T”.

For a moment, Armie thinks that Timmy is going to argue with him - but he watches as logic and emotion war for precedence and breathes an internal sigh of relief when logic carries the day.

“I am equally sure - of you, that I want you - but I understand. Let’s not think about it now. Tonight I have you - the rest of the world can wait, as far as I am concerned.”

Timmy’s eyes grow dark, Armie can barely catch his breath - he can feel long fingers snaking around him, coaxing him to full hardness, “Bed”.

When he stands, Tim’s dick is in Armie’s face and Armie swallows him down. Tim’s left hand settles in Armie’s hair, his right touches the side of his neck. His touch is rough - Armie grips his hips, puts both hands into his hair so Timmy can grab, control. Timmy’s eyebrow shoots up, “This is how you want it?,” he pulls out of Armie’s mouth.

“Use me, I want you to,” he licks his lips. Timothée nods slowly and steps from the tub and takes Armie’s hand.

The bed is mere feet away - he yanks off the coverlet and throws Armie a towel; Armie follows. Timothée lays him on the bed so that his head hangs off the side. He leans over Armie’s body and bends until he can fuck Armie’s face. Tim’s fingers rest on the side of Armie’s neck, so he can feel the veins bulging when his cock blocks his airway. Armie’s eyes are streaming - he gasps when Timothée moves out, only to have his airway blocked again as Timmy whispers, “You trust me? Maybe you shouldn’t…,” he dips out again, then back, “...but goddamn, it still excites you. You’re so hard,” his hand strokes Armie just once, then he pushes up to standing.

Armie coughs and sits up, “What the fuck?”

Timmy shakes his curls back, “I’d have stopped if it weren’t turning you on - but it was, it’s still turning you on - just thinking about it. Kneel up.”

Armie is too stunned to reply. That summer, sex between them was furtive and mostly vanilla. Since then, Armie Dommed Timmy a few times - and he was an enthusiastic submissive, “You’re a switch?”

“I am,” Timmy throws the towel away and moves behind Armie. He pulls his body back against him, taking his dripping cock in hand, “And tonight - more than anything else - I want to fuck you unless you object?”

“No, I...I’ve never,” Armie gasps.

“I’ll be good to you. I want you to come for me first,” Timmy intones.

It’s as though Armie’s body was only waiting for the command. Timmy strokes him through, “Beautiful”.

They kiss, now Armie is straddling Timmy’s lap, wincing with oversensitivity as his fingers - cold with lube - circle and enter him. No one has ever done this to him. He’s tried, but it never felt like this. His cock never went down entirely, and now it takes a renewed interest in the proceedings. 

“Jesus, T...that feels...I want you inside my body.”

“Stop saying things like that or it’s going to be over way too quickly,” Timothée pants against Armie’s neck. Minutes drag by - Timmy is avoiding Armie’s prostate in favor of opening him further, “OK. If you are on top, you can control the stretch better...are you ready? You feel ready for me.”

“Yessss,” Armie tries to move quickly, but Timmy fists his own cock and holds Armie still.

“No - take your time, I don’t want to hurt you,” Timmy’s lips are red and spit-slick. His normally pale face is flushed and his voice is shaking, but he maintains control as he breaches Armie.

Armie feels his body taking Timmy in - he wants to rush ahead, but Timmy won’t let him. He advances slowly, rocking against Timmy’s body until he is deeply seated in Armie’s body. Armie raises up gingerly and comes down again, “My God, oh...oh my God...I...I need you on top of me. I want to just...let everything go. I need you on top of me, T,” Armie gasps desperately. Timmy nods, wrapping Armie’s massive legs around his waist and rolling them on to Armie’s back. They separate; Timmy grabs pillows and places them beneath Armie’s hips then pushes him back on the bed. He guides himself in and stops to catch his breath.

Armie’s thighs are anchored around his hips; he circles gently and Armie growls in frustration, “I am FINE. Or I would be if you would just fuck me!”

Timothée pulls Armie’s head back by his hair and mouths his exposed neck over the artery, “I’ve got you”.

He is propped on his elbows, so they can be as close as possible, but now he raises up on his wiry arms and starts pumping in and out with smooth strokes. He shifts his hips and Armie’s legs until he finds the best angle and then he allows himself to lose control. Hips snap, his belly presses against Armie’s cock, “Fuck - touch yourself, come..come with me”.

Armie opens his eyes and fists the sheets. He cannot look away from Timmy who stares down with lust and fierce possessiveness. This latter has his body clenching around his lover, Timmy’s pupils dilate until Armie sees only the barest trace of green - the cock pounding him feels harder, bigger and then something snaps and Armie is screaming through his orgasm.

They sleep...they must have slept because when Armie opens his eyes the pillows beneath his hips are gone and Timmy is no longer a satyr-sex-god, but a handsome, too-thin young man, collapsed on top of him, limbs thoroughly intertwined.

Outside, the snow has tapered to fluffy drifting flakes, and Armie watches the sky as he pulls the duvet up, cocooning them both in goose down and expensive linens.

“Hey…,” Timmy’s voice is gravelly.

“Hey - I didn’t think you were awake,” Armie kisses his brow, gently.

“You never told Elizabeth,” it isn’t a question. Armie goes still beneath Timothée, “Don’t lie - you don’t need to lie. You do, however, need to tell her - after the Oscars. I agree with you on that front, we don’t need the scandal,” Timmy burrows closer, “I didn’t...I didn’t realize how much I wanted you to tell her, until you said you had. I thought about it after you passed out. I want you….I don’t want a half-life, hidden by business trips, shamming as brothers. I understand if you don’t...or can’t. No really, I do! But if you don’t, then I can’t do this anymore. It’s hurting me...and I don’t want to be hurt, not by you.”

Armie tightens his arms around Timmy, “T - I hate being separated. I hate it when you decide you’ve overstayed your welcome and _you_ _leave me again_. I don’t like sleeping - just to sleep - without you in my arms. I’m sorry I lied. I will tell her - tomorrow, if you want me to. I’m done with my coma. I don’t want to end up like Oliver - to miss out on the best years of my life because I don’t have you to share them.”

Timmy shifts up, and looks deep into Armie’s eyes, “Promise me? After the Oscars - you will tell her - you promise?”

“With all of my heart, T. With all of my heart”.

A button beside the bed closes the curtains and they both snuggle in for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hotel is real, as is the suite - check it out if you want to set the scene.   
> The rest is fictional wearing the faces of these actors.


End file.
